


Fire and Flames

by Carter_Ash_Official



Series: A Reluctant Inquisitor [11]
Category: swtor - Fandom
Genre: Alderaan, Sith Inquisitor - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 09:49:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8008759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carter_Ash_Official/pseuds/Carter_Ash_Official
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Andronikos finds out what happened, and they talk things out</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fire and Flames

Andronikos rearranged the furniture in the guest room again. He changed how his coat was hanging so it could keep drying. Same with his boots.

He didn’t like how cold Alderaan was. It was too much after the deserts of Tatooine. And the snowstorm had only cemented his dislike for icy temperatures even more.

The stable maid had helped with that this morning. But she wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted the girl on the other side of the wall. The Sith who’d walked into his life with a sunburn the color of her lightsaber.

Andronikos hung his head off the side of the bed.

Hell, he wasn’t ever like this, thinking about his girl this much. But then she was different because she didn’t see the lying, murdering, thieving pirate. She saw… she saw someone else that maybe he wanted to be, just for her and only her.

Wait. He’d called her his girl.

Was she? Or-

He should talk to her. That miserable look she’d given him in House Rist was burned into his eyeballs. What had he done? Andronikos started pacing.

He stopped in front of the fireplace and warmed his feet.

Maybe he should see if she was okay from whatever it was this morning that was bothering her.

Maybe sit with her while she did whatever Sithy things Sith did.

Maybe give her a goodnight kiss.

There. That was a good idea. He’d go and talk to her under the pretense of saying goodnight.

Andronikos paused, glanced in the mirror and made sure he didn’t have anything in his teeth, and headed to her room.

What if she was already sleeping? No, there was light coming from under her door. He knocked.

“Who is it?” she called through the door.

“Me.”

“Come in.”

He opened the door and leaned against the frame.

Wenia was obviously in the middle of getting ready for bed. Her outer robes were carefully laid out on her bed, boots set out in the corner by the door, out of the way; her lightsaber on the dresser within easy summoning distance.

There she was on the couch, bun released and hair cascading over a shoulder in a loose twisty thing. Andronikos decided it was some sort of braid. He drank in the view of her and how she sat with a leg tucked up under her. Beautiful. Even in her inner-robe dress that was patched and frayed.

“Are you going to enter or pretend to be a door?”

He shut the door behind him, deciding he couldn’t blurt out that he knew something was wrong. “It’s cold in here,” he complained, and threw himself down into the armchair across from her; ignoring the fact that he sunk halfway into it and would probably need help to swim out of the cushion’s depths. Andronoikos glanced at the empty grate. “Should light a fire.”

“No,” she said quickly in a tight voice.

He looked at her closer. She had a blanket covering her left shoulder and arm, her dress a little crooked because her arm wasn’t through the sleeve. On a hunch he took a deep breath through his nose.

The room smelled like kolto.

She wouldn’t meet his gaze, quietly looking at an empty soup bowl sitting on the table between them, playing with a loose string on her skirt.

“Something’s bothering you.”

Wenia bit her lip.

“Your arm can hardly move. That’s why you were playing matchmaker with the Rist lady. You couldn’t fight her.” Andronikos frowned. “Something scared you this morning.”

She didn’t move.

He hauled himself out the chair and sat on the couch, facing her.

“Wen.”

She looked at him, hesitant. Fearful. She didn’t want him to see whatever it was but she wasn’t going to stop him.

Andronikos gently removed the blanket.

He knew that shoulder. Knew that scar. He’d kissed it, ran his hands over it. The new burn was an unwelcome stranger on her skin.

“That Sith guard did this.” It wasn’t a question. “I’m going to kill that son of a-.”

“No,” she laid a hand on his arm to keep him sitting. “I have to have the artifact. And we can’t get it if we’re kicked out of House Thul.”

“He hurt you!” Andronikos nearly shouted. He hated politics. “That bastard.” He put two and two together. “That’s why there’s no fire in here.” She was scared of it.

Wenia nodded. “I’m going to take care of him later, once we’re done on Alderaan.” She bowed her head. “I didn’t even care for him all that much, I just thought that he could tell me what I should’ve done when we…” She cut herself off. And looked wretched.

He was confused. “Should’ve done what?”

“What did I do wrong, Andronikos?” She gazed at him searchingly.

“When?”

“You avoided me. After we slept together. What did I do wrong enough that you avoided me?” Wenia repeated. Her cheeks were burning pink.

Oh. Blast, she was right, he’d been busy getting space rocks out of the engines. “I didn’t avoid you.”

Her eyebrows moved upward in disbelief. “You barely talked to me after. I didn’t see you for nearly a whole day, and when you walked past me, you grunted hello!” she cried out.

“Alright, fine.” Andronikos crossed his arms and leaned back against the couch. He hated the touchy-feely stuff but this was his own doing. “I didn’t think about that. But it wasn’t about anything you did.”

She pulled the blanket back around herself, not meeting his eyes, not believing him.

“Wen.” He tucked a stray bit of hair behind her ear. “Trust me, you did nothing wrong at all.” Andronikos stuck his feet up on the table and continued playing with her hair, and kissed her bad ear. “Could’ve just asked me.”

She handed him a tube of kolto. “If you’re going to do that to my hair, could you also help me?” Wenia Force-flicked his feet off the table.

He squeezed kolto onto his fingertips. “When we’re done here and you’ve killed him, I’m shooting his eyeballs out of his skull afterwards.”

She bowed her head, blinking furiously. “Why would he burn me?” Her voice was soft. “I understand that he wanted power, but hurting me didn’t make him more powerful. Why would he want to hurt me like that? Why did he _like_ it?”

A tear landed on her skirt.

Andronikos grimaced and kept applying kolto to her fresh burn. He didn’t like crying. And Wenia was innocent to so much of the dark desires and corrupted lust in the galaxy that this not-so-small glimpse probably rattled her.

She looked at him. “Are… He caused pain for fun. How could someone do that to someone else? I thought slavers only did it because they didn’t think we could think and they had to.” Wenia’s tears were still falling, breathing hitched. She started sobbing.

He pulled her close, letting this sweet Sith sob into his shoulder.

“I was scared, Andronikos. What if he’s got fire again, what if he sneaks in here tonight and he tries to hurt me?” She gripped his arm. “I was terrified when he hurt me, I panicked and I ran and I knew he was chasing me because I could sense it but I couldn’t get away from him. And he’d acted so normal before he did anything. Nikky, I’m still scared because this hurts so much because I was worried you didn’t like me anymore so I tried to see what I did wrong and this is all my fault and I’ve never wanted you to think I was playing with you and it looks like I am but I swear I wasn’t, Andronikos.”

Her next breath shook her.

“I’m so sorry, Nikky.”

Andronikos rubbed her back for a minute. “You’re still scared that he’s coming back?”

She nodded into his shirt.

“Then you’re not staying here alone, Wen.” Andronikos released her and stood. “I’m getting my blasters, then I’ll be back.” He slipped out of her room and returned a moment later.

Wenia looked calmer, eyes still red, but her emotions were under control as she tidied up the table.

Andronikos plunked back down on the couch, blasters within reach. He was staring right at the door.

She watched him for a moment before draping a blanket around him. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, it’s fine. Didn’t like him to begin with.”

“Are you mad?”

“At him. You? No.”

“I’m sorry, Andronikos,” Wenia fluffed a throw pillow.

“Got nothing to apologize for.” He leaned back and put his feet up on the table, pulling the blanket up to his neck.

“You didn’t need to come over or comfort me or stay.”

He gave her a look. “Get over here.” He patted the cushion on his right.

She sat down next to him, blanket wrapped around her like a shawl.

“First, this is kinda my fault because I didn’t do nothing. Second, Wen, believe me, you’ve got nothing to apologize for with that night.” Andronikos smiled faintly at her. “Third, you’re beautiful. Fourth, you’re my girl. So I’m here and I’m gonna make sure you feel safe. And I’m shooting him later, even if he’s already dead.”

“The big bad pirate is going to fight the corpse of a Sith. How heroic.” Wenia settled herself against him, pulling her blanket around her, head resting on his shoulder. She looked up, smiling at him with innocent eyes that saw the best in him, saw the remains of whatever kindness he had left, not the anger nor the violence buried in him. She was gazing at him like he was some good man and not a murdering pirate.

Andronikos threw his arm around the back of the couch, hand on her good shoulder, and forced himself to look away before he turned into some gooey-hearted fool. He ran his thumb over her shoulder.

“Thank you,” she repeated, and pressed a kiss against his cheek. Then she Force-pushed his feet off the table again.

“Go to bed, Wen, get some sleep.”

“I think I’d like to stay here. Keep you company.”

“It is really cold in here.”

“And you’re rather warm.”

“You calling me hot?”

“Perhaps,” she murmured quietly. A minute later and her head rocked back, signaling that she was asleep.

“Goodnight, Wen.”


End file.
